


Better Angels of Our Nature

by LizzyPaul



Category: Angels in America - Kushner
Genre: Community: fic_on_demand, HIV/AIDS, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 03:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyPaul/pseuds/LizzyPaul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prior's reaction immediately after being diagnosed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Angels of Our Nature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cocacat15](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cocacat15).



> Written for [cocacat15's request for Prior fic](http://fic-on-demand.livejournal.com/784836.html).

The doctor was kind, under the circumstances. There are few ways to make, “Prior Walter, you’re going to die,” sound nice. He quoted statistics at me, new studies, offered a counselor, told me about new drugs that I might get in two or five or ten years (if I live that long), but what it all boiled down to was: “Get your affairs in order, and prepare yourself for a long walk to the great beyond.”

I stepped out of his office and stared at the busy street in front of me. I thought about just throwing myself into traffic. A quick death, a mercy the disease ravaging my body won’t give me. And then Louis wouldn’t have to know. I could make it look like I tripped, like I was distracted. A sad death, but not a tragic one. Louis would mourn me, and then move on. I’d die knowing that he loved me. It would be a gift, for both of us.

I looked at the street, and then turned and walked towards the corner café. 

I’m a coward; I accept that about myself. I’ve known for a while, now. It didn’t happen overnight, though the lesion made it impossible to continue to ignore. But I put off the moment of truth, the moment the doctor looked at me and said, “Mr. Walters, you have AIDS,” and destroyed any plans of growing old with my lover, of finishing my book, of opening my own design shop, of getting that degree, finally. 

I put off the moment where I would have to tell Louis. Because I know that telling him means the end of something essential, and I don’t mean my life. It was easy to hide the lesion--my libido has never been able to keep up with Louis the Walking Hard-on’s--it was easy to say, “No, I don’t feel like it tonight, why don’t I just suck you off instead?” And Louis, bless him, beautiful, oblivious Louis, never suspected. 

I thought about calling my mom. I wondered whether her first words would be, “I told you so” or “Why are you doing this to me?” Maybe I should call her to see if I’m right. Maybe I’m being too hard on her, maybe she’d say, “Baby, I’m so sorry. Come back home and I’ll take care of you.”

And maybe Reagan will announce his resignation tomorrow, if we’re talking pipe dreams.

Louis and I got our first cat, years ago, little Bella. When I saw her at the shelter, I knew she was the one for us, beautiful and imperious. Four months later, we found out she had cancer. From the moment the vet told us the news, that our little Bella was going to die, Louis began to pull away. He wouldn’t pet her when she was in pain, he wouldn’t give her the medication or take her to the vet, and he begged me to just put her down. I did, finally, when poor Bella couldn’t even lift herself into the litterbox. By myself, of course, as Louis couldn’t bear the thought of going with me.

I’d like to think that I mean more to Louis than a cat. I’d like to think that he would stay with me, that he wouldn’t pull away. But I’m afraid it just means he’ll leave me faster. 

I love my Louis, but I don’t love him for his emotional fortitude. 

I sat down at the corner café and ordered a tall late from the adorable waiter. We flirted pleasantly, and I wondered what sort of man Louis would find himself, after I was gone. Then I sipped at my drink and tried not to think at all.

**END**


End file.
